A/N: Ahhhhhhh! I'm so sorry! Life caught up with me I guess. I just haven't had time. I'm sorry, but here's a chapter to make up for it!

Alby looked at us, to say he was surprised and unbelieving would be an understatement. He looked like we had just told him he could tap his heels together three times and get the hell out of this place. "Ain't got time for jokes," he said stoically.

Tommy just stood, utterly confused at the words flying between the three of us. Hie blue eyes swimming with questions he undoubtedly dying to ask,

"Look," Minho replied, "I wouldn't believe us if I were you, either. But trust me, we did. A big fat nasty one."

"You found a dead Griever," Alby repeated looking between the two of us.

"Yes, Alby," Minho and I said simultaneously, our words laced with obvious annoyance. "A couple of miles from here," Minho specified, "Out near the Cliff."

"Well... why didn't you bring it back with you?" Alby asked.

I looked at him, incredulous. I then looked at Minho who had cracked up laughing in his half-grunt, half-giggle-ish thing. "You been drinkin' Frypan's saucy-sauce? Those things must weigh a ton, dude. Plus, I wouldn't touch one if you gave me a free trip outta this place."

Alby persisted. "What did it look like? Were the metal spikes in or out of its body? Did it move at all- was its skin moist?"

"Slim it, Alby," I said.

"You gotta see it for yourself. It's..." Minho trailed off, looking to me for help.

"Weird," I said for lack of a better word.

"Weird?" Alby asked confused.

"Dude," Minho said, "I'm exhausted, starving, and sun-sick. But if you wanna haul it right now, we could probably make it there and back before the walls shut."

"Probably, probably isn't good enough," I muttered under my breath as I looked at my wrist. Where the hell did my watch go?

Alby glanced at his watch. "Better wait till the wake-up tomorrow."

I let out an inward sigh of relief. "Smartest thing you've said all week." Minho righted himself, pushing off the wall. He clapped Alby on the arm, offering me a hand and pulling me off the wall. "We should go back out there, but screw it. I'm gonna go eat some of Frypan's nasty casserole."

"Care for some company?" I asked, walking passed a confused newbie.

He shrugged. I noticed a slight limp in the way he was walking. "Why not?"

I smiled following him towards the Homestead and linking my arm in his.

Newt found us in the kitchens talking to Frypan. He looked exhausted. Almost as worn as us. "Newt?" I asked spinning towards him. "What-"

"Ben," he began. "Isn't dead..." I stared, taking his hand.

"But... Alby shot him... Arrow to the head, I thought." Minho watched our conversation unfold.

"He's in the Slammer. Apparently the arrow missed his brain...got a bandage coverin half his shuck head."

"Gathering in the mornin'?" Minho asked sensibly.

Newt nodded, but we all knew how this would end. Another banishment, another life, another collar left on our doorstep. We shared a solemn look.

I looked down at the half-eaten piece of casserole. I wasn't hungry anymore... the impending banishment didn't waver the boys' appetite though. Both Newt and Minho ate a piece, shoving it down their throats like wild animals. I left, saying I needed to go for a walk.

The Deadheads were quiet, nobody around but me. Graveyards, I guess aren't exactly a desirable place to hang out. I found myself walking towards my favorite tree, I still had no idea what type it was, and deciding I had nothing better to do at the moment, began climbing. There was so much going on... So much to think about, to decide... and so little time to do it. I rested my back against the tree and sighed. I was tired both mentally and physically, but I didn't want to sleep. I wanted... I didn't know. I looked out at the graves of the boys I once knew.

Stephen, a lanky blonde-haired blue-eyed boy with kind eyes and an open heart and fierce determination. He killed himself after surviving the Changing...

George, tall, muscular, brown-haired tan boy with dark eyes and outstanding courage. He was trapped outside in the maze overnight. He died...

And Nick, ah Nick. Acted so tough, but was really a softie underneath it all. He explained things easily, the others rallied around him. He had an aura of goodness around him... and then he died... and we were left carry on...

Each name brought back a memory, a regret, a twinge of pain, of sadness causing my heart to clench.

"MaC?" Newt had found me, just like I knew he would.

I bowed my head holding back the sadness. He began to climb. Resting on a few branches so that his eyes were level with mine, he lifted my chin, letting go of one branch. "MaC?"

"What?" I asked, sounding a bit irritable.

He didn't back away and he didn't flinch at the hard edge in my voice. Instead, he moved closer. His faces merely centimeters away from mine. I couldn't look at him.

"It's late, MaC..."

"I know that."

He nodded, "I know, you know, but you can be bloody insane when your tired..." He smiled at me, bringing his face closer. My eyes locked with his mossy green.

"Like you're any different," I muttered.

"I am."

I snorted a laugh, "Uh-huh, keep tellin' yourself that..."

"You're mean!" He joked.

"You know you love it." I smirked.

"Oh, do I now?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I know you do," I said smashing my lips into his. He braced himself, keeping from falling out of the tree. He brought a hand around me, gripping at my waist, the other clutching the tree. I backed him into a branch, running my fingers through his hair, as he pulled me closer, pressing my slightly softer body against his hard chest.

A branch creaked, our eyes snapped open as the branch he was standing on gave way beneath our combined weight and we hit the ground. Or, more technically, he hit the ground, and I landed right smack on top of him, the branch a few feet to our right. Just after that moment of weightlessness, I crashed into him. Knocking out any breath he had in him at the moment. "Sorry," I muttered, making to get up. Two strong arms stopped me, encircling my waist and trapping me. I looked down at him, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes. He rolled on top of me laying kisses trailing from my shoulder, up my neck, jaw line, and leading to my lips. I shivered at his touch, my arms around his neck. That pesky need for air broke our kiss, leaving us breathless and panting for air. "Good talk," I said with a smile.

He laughed slightly. "MaC..."

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"And I love you."

A/N: I'm sorry for the wait. But here it is, Chapter 8! Please review!